


5PM Blues

by casstayinmyass



Category: Ghost World (2001)
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Co-workers, Desk Sex, F/M, Insecurity, Riding, Smut, Steve Buscemi - Freeform, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 08:14:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16991313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: A year after your friend Seymour gets you hired at Cook’s Chicken, your fantasies about him become hard to ignore.





	5PM Blues

**Author's Note:**

> I love my lil bean Seymour :3 There’s a fluffy one for him too, it’s called ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ if you wanna find it.

You focus on the brunette with the clipboard, chewing on your bottom lip. Most people have the issue where when they have wet dreams, it’s about someone they really hate or someone they would never want to have sex with, but you do not have that problem. Or you did not. Last night. When you dreamed about your manager. 

Seymour, manager of this branch of Cook’s Chicken, is your boss. After meeting him in a diner about a year ago when both your dates had stood you up, you had become close friends, and he had gotten you a job here. You worked as a cashier, occasionally as a waitress, and over that time, you had developed feelings for your lanky, quirky older friend… in more than one way. 

“You’re staring at him again." 

You frown, looking to your coworker. "What? Staring at who?”

“Your best pal Seymour, dumb bitch, duh!”

You roll your eyes. “I am not. You’re just dying to spread the news all over the restaurant that I wanna fuck the assistant manager.”

“Could you imagine though?” your coworker snorts, “It would be a miracle if he ever got laid. I bet he’d conk out half-way through, he’s so fucking pathetic.” Your smirk falters. 

“I don’t think he is.”

“So you DO want to fuck him!”

“Just because I don’t think someone’s pathetic, doesn’t mean I want to fuck them.”

“Exactly. It’s because you do that you will.”

“Christ sake,” you mutter, walking away from your annoying coworker. Seymour was overseeing some fry cooks, wearing that dorky yellow uniform that looked odd on the man who came into work in retro corduroy, and you had to smile. Ah, you would be lying if you said you hadn’t hardcore fantasized about him before. He was just so interesting– if any of the other girls around this place just took a few seconds from applying their makeup or mooning over cosmo magazine to talk to the man, they’d be fascinated. Or, maybe not. Maybe you were just weird too. 

Seymour turns for a moment from his clipboard, and sees you staring. He smiles, giving a playful salute in your direction, and you return it. He stares for a few seconds more, before he clears his throat and gets back to his work. You sigh, and figure you might as well walk over.

“Hey." 

"Oh hi (y/n),” he grins, “Having a good day?”

“Nah, it’s pretty shitty, but I figured you could make it better.”

He hesitates, laughing. “What, what could I do?”

“I don’t know, tell me a joke.”

He gives you a look. “(y/n), I’m the most unfunny person in this entire building.”

“I think you’re a riot Seymour,” you protest, and he blinks.

“I, uh… thank you?”

“Those new pants?”

“No, I’ve had them for about six years now, I actually found them for a great bargain at a vintage–”

“Seymour, when a girl asks you if you got new pants, you say yes, and accept a compliment or two. Then you tell her about the vintage clothing shop, because that’s… well, that’s just really fucking cool.”

“Oh,” he frowns, “Alright." 

You smirk. "I had a dream last night.”

“Okay.” He checks something hanging on the wall, the marks it down, and you tail him.

“It was glorious, Seymour– that’s why I’m in such a good mood today. So much sex, seriously, I was drowning in dick.”

“Jesus! (y/n) I’m your boss now, you shouldn’t be discussing these things with me. Or ever really.”

“Aw fuck it, we’re both adults here.”

He huffs, trying not to laugh. “Geez, just go, uh… go easy on the dick, and get to work, or something, okay?" 

You wink at him, and nudge his shoulder as you brush past. 

As you’re talking to the older man, your coworker has gathered a group of people around her. A litany of giggles and gasps skitter through them. 

-

5 PM at the end of the day, as you’re trying to decide between watching the Good the Bad and the Ugly or Gone With The Wind tonight, you’re surprised to run into Seymour. 

"Hey,” you say, “Anything cool happen in the last two hours I haven’t seen you? Hey, got some more records to record-mend to me?” You laugh at your joke, but Seymour just gives you a tight smile.

“Sorry, (y/n), not tonight. I, uh… need to speak to you in my office.”

_Shit. What did you do?! Are you gonna get fired? Your best friend wouldn’t fire you… would he?_

“If this is about telling Mr. Brindley to fuck off the other day–”

“It’s not,” Seymour assures, “I hated that guy too, he was a class A prick, but no… this is about something else.”

“What?”

He gives you a look. “Can you just come in?!”

You follow him in hesitantly, and take a seat across from his desk. He sits there for a second, as if mulling something over in his brain, before he opens his mouth. 

“So. There’s a rumor going around.”

You swallow. “Yeah?”

“Your coworkers have been… discussing it at great length today, pretty loudly.”

“They’re loud and obnoxious, what else is new?” you grit out.

“Yeah… well… they said you wanted me to…” he frowns.

You frown too. “What?”

“Well… bend you over my desk and, eh… expletive you." 

You huff incredulously. "Fuck me." 

"Well, I wasn’t gonna say it, but–” he makes a gesture, and you sit forward. 

“No. I mean fuck me, my coworkers are shitheads." 

He looks at you curiously, then sighs. "So… all this was some kinda big joke, huh?” He nods. “I figured." 

You swallow. It would be so easy to just say yeah, and let him leave you alone… 

"Well, not exactly." 

He clears his throat. "Excuse me?”

You shift in your seat. “Seymour… I kinda like you. A lot." 

He stares at you. "You like me?”

“Yeah.”

“So it wasn’t just a joke?” He corrects himself quickly. “For the sake of our professional relationship, I hope it was, but…” he swallows. “You actually want me to fuck you? Over my desk?” You start to grin, and he goes on. “I mean, nowhere else, just the desk?! Wouldn’t you want a nice bed? I’ve got a lovely–”

“Seymour,” you murmur, getting up. He nods. “The desk is fine.”

He still looks utterly puzzled. “But ME?! Why me?! I’m just an oddball you picked out and decided to stick around!”

You look down. “Maybe the oddball I decided to bother makes me feel like a good kind of oddball that you decided to keep.”

He tries to break this down, but you interrupt his thinking with a kiss. He melts into it, cupping your face with both hands. When you pull away, he’s breathless and completely enraptured with you. You bite your lip, wondering how you got so lucky today to finally act on your feelings for your boss/friend. You reach down to unbuckle him.

“(y/n),” he puts his hand over yours, “I really shouldn’t do this. I could be reported, you could definitely lose your job if corporate finds out, and…” he shakes his head, “This’ll effect everything! I mean, there’s always going to be a power dynamic here, since I’m your boss now, which isn’t fun for anyone.”

You smile. “Worst case scenario I quit, and sell all your things to pay for extravagant lifestyle.”

He sputters for a second, then looks up at you.

“Now wait a minute–”

You lick your lips, and apparently he just says fuck it, pulling you back in for a kiss. You moan softly as his tongue slips in, and slide into his lap where he’s sitting on a chair with wheels. The chair slides back and hits the wall, and things get dirty. Seymour’s hands move down your back, shimmying down your pants as he continues to make out with you. You unbuckle his belt successfully, then unzip his fly, rubbing him to full hardness.

He swallows, and you groan, grinding down against his dick, panties rubbing against his uniform pants.

“Got condoms in here?” you smirk.

“You mean, do I keep condoms in my office?” he scoffs, “Sorry to disappoint, but I just don’t think of these things.”

You pout. “Guess you can’t come in me today.”

“Jesus!” Seymour’s eyes widen as he frowns, and you snort.

“You clean?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, me too,” you grin, and wiggle out of your panties. He swallows again when he sees you without them.

“So. We’re just gonna do this?” he murmurs.

"Well, I don’t know about you… but I don’t much feel like stopping,” you giggle excitedly. You were really doing this,  _finally_.

“No, that’s… not really an option for me,” he looks down at his dick, and you stroke it. He lets out a moan, and it makes you even wetter to hear him getting into it. You need more.

“You ever eat someone out?”

“Have I ever what?” he squints. “Taken someone out to eat? Oh, plenty of times, sure–”

“No,” you mimick the action, and he raises his eyebrows.

“Have I ever used my tongue on a girl? Eating out, is that what the kids are calling it these days?” He huffs, and looks proud of himself. “Well, I uh… I do know what I’m doing in that department, actually.”

“Yeah?” You push the wheely chair back from the wall, and crawl back on the desk.

“Yep. I can dole out that bang up oral sex like a pro!”

You blink. “I wish you would think before you say things sometimes.”

He frowns, but moves forward, slinging your legs over his shoulder. He shoots you a completely lust-driven look up through his eyelashes, then presses his lips to your wetness, tongue running up your clit until you cry his name.

“Seymour… oh god, I need you…”

“Wow. Never thought I’d hear those words ever coming out of your mouth,” he chuckles, and goes back down on you. You bite your fist to keep from moaning so loud that it would be a miracle the whole restaurant didn’t hear, then lean up on your forearms.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re a really great guy, Seymour. Nobody appreciates you like they should.”

“You’re the only one who talks to me, that’s why,” he replies, “They take one look at me, figure I’m over the hill, which I basically am–”

“You’re 44.”

“Still, I–” He suddenly frowns. “How do you know my age?!”

“Linkedin stalking, go on.”

“Well, I can’t get lucky because everyone’s scared of my hobbies. Sure, they’re a little different, but… you’re the only one who’s talked to me lately long enough to find out why I like what I do.” He shakes his head. “Maybe you’re enough.”   
“That just hit you?” You smile a little. He smiles back, and after a second of him staring fondly at you, you yank yourself back up, getting back into his lap, and lowering yourself onto his dick. 

“Oh, Jesus H Christ, (y/n),” he mutters, “You’re absolutely wonderful." 

"I appreciate that,” you respond playfully, and kiss him again as you ride him. He clutches at your hips, letting out little whimpers when you rock down extra hard, and he watches your breasts bounce in front of his face, thoroughly enjoying the view. Soon, he groans. 

“Sorry, I’m, eh… not gonna last…" 

"Neither am I,” you wink, “Sir." 

"Wowzer,” he mutters, and slams his lips to yours once more before lifting you off him and grabbing his dick. He makes another little noise, and comes hard in his hand, while you overtake it and use his cum to jerk him through his completion. He looks at you with that same amazed, sultry look, and you giggle, taking his hand. You take three of his long, slender fingers, put them together, and hope he gets the message. He does. 

Reaching down, he curves them inside of you, and after a couple of strokes, you’re gone too. Crying out his name, you tilt your head back and let him get one more face full of your breasts as you come. 

After you both relax, you get off his lap, sitting back on the edge of his desk.  
“So? How fired am I?”

He gives you a look. “You really think I would do that to you? Especially after that magnificent sex?! Not that I… would be keeping you around for the sex,” he assures, “You’re just a good employee, and a good friend. I mean, we don’t ever have to do this again… if you don’t, eh, if you don’t want to. It’s totally all up to you!" 

"Seymour?” you smirk. “That was my fantasy come true. Hell yeah I wanna do it again." He relaxes visibly, and you grin. "One thing though… next time has got to be in your cool as balls record room. I wanna get freaky to some blues." 

Seymour sits in his chair, quietly contemplating what he did to deserve a young lady like you. You sit on the desk, pondering the fact that he looks like a rock star with his hair all messed up like this. 


End file.
